Chapter 4 - THE DOOR AT 11:30
My flight landed at JFK shortly after ten on New Year’s Eve. Snow had begun sticking to the runway, and every road into Brooklyn seemed blocked by people traveling toward parties. I sat in the back of a cab with my suitcase between my knees and watched fireworks begin over Manhattan.
I had bought gifts during the trip. Thermal clothes for Liam. Recovery creams for Maya. Chocolates for my mother. Perfume for Chloe. A leather wallet for Mark.
The gifts for my family felt obscene now.
I reached our Park Slope apartment at nearly eleven-thirty and unlocked the door without calling ahead.
“Where are my wife and son?” I asked as I stepped inside.
The only answer was the faint cry of a newborn coming from the dark living room.
The apartment was freezing.
No lamps were on except the cold white light above the kitchen island. There was no holiday meal, no champagne, no sign anyone had celebrated there. Used bottles and diapers sat on the glass dining table. The clear bassinet near the sofa was surrounded by scattered baby supplies.
Liam lay inside, wrapped in a blanket too thin for the room.
Then I saw Maya.
She was sitting on the kitchen floor with her back against a cabinet, wearing thin pajamas beneath her gray hoodie. Her hands shook around a cup of cold instant noodles. Her skin was pale, her lips cracked, and every breath looked like it required a decision.
“David?”
She tried to stand.
“Why are you back?”
Her knees gave way before she finished the question.
I dropped my travel bag and caught her.
She was frighteningly warm against my hands despite the cold apartment.
“Don’t lift me,” she whispered. “You’ll hurt your back.”
“What happened to you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Maya, look at me.”
Her eyes moved toward the bassinet instead.
“Liam needs a warmer blanket.”
I wrapped my suit jacket around her shoulders, then crossed the room and covered our son with the thermal coat I had purchased in Germany. His tiny body settled as soon as the warmth reached him.
May you like
When I turned back, Maya was trying to hide the instant noodle cup beneath the table.
That small movement terrified me more than anything else I had seen.
